His eyes were friendly but he did not smile. He was dead serious. He leaned forward, his words meant just for me.

‘Be sincere, be brief and be seated,’ he told me.

I stared at him.

On stage, my name was being announced to a smattering of half-hearted, never-even-heard-of-her applause in the hall. A tough crowd. But I was staring at the man in the suit and tie. He had craggy good looks, like middle period Harrison Ford. Witness and The Mosquito Coast, around there. An attractive grown-up with a few miles on the clock. There was a big expensive watch on his wrist, some sort of Rolex, as showy as a dowager’s bracelet.

‘What?’ I said.

‘Be sincere, be brief and be seated,’ he repeated. ‘Remember those three things and you’ll be fine. I promise you.’ He lightly squeezed my arm. ‘Go now, Tara.’

I stared at him for a moment longer and then I nodded.

I left my inadequate notes on my seat and I went up on stage and I took a breath and I told them how it all started with my best friend – Ginger.

Ginger was – and Ginger still is! – this beautiful, smart Aussie girl who moved to London from Sydney and who could not get a date. Imagine God’s second attempt at Elle Macpherson, I told them. That’s Ginger. The audience smiled at that. They were waking up.

Ginger had surfed all her life, I said, staying with Ginger, being sincere. She had played beach volleyball on Bondi until the day she got on that Qantas flight to London ten years ago. This incredible young woman who would hang out with me and my boyfriend Christian – who eventually became my husband – because there was no man in her life.

Ladies and, er, ladies – it was insane. It was nuts. And it was just plain wrong.

And I was personally going to do something about it. So I started my company because my lonely, lovely friend Ginger deserved to meet a good man.

I rattled off some statistics, the stuff I knew by heart that I had in my abandoned notes. Our digital traffic. The latest figures for our subscribers. Our reviews and ratings on Trustpilot. But really the speech was all about Ginger. That is how I came to start my company Angel Eyes. An online introduction agency. A dating app. Because of Ginger.

Court someone worth catching was our slogan.

I could see smiles in the audience, even from people wearing their little plastic headsets, the delegates getting my story in a second language. The speech worked, even in translation, because I spoke from the heart.

And because I followed the man’s advice.

I had been sincere, I had been brief and now I was going to get the hell off this stage while I was ahead and be seated as soon as I had spoken to the scrum of media waiting stage left. That was the way the moderator was steering me after I wound it up.